More Than Once
by Starlit Skyline
Summary: More than once, you'll catch yourself wishing that things could have been different. Takes place after the Battle of Del. I don't own Deltora Quest or the cover image, it belongs to WingedWarrior7 from deviantART.


More Than Once

The days dragged on, turning into moths as they did and yet, for all the time it had passed Doom, or Jared as he was once and presently known, couldn't believe this was still not a dream. The Battle of Del, as many had grown to call it, the revelation of the new heir, the banishing of the Shadow Lord...

And yet, he still felt as though it was an aftermath of a nightmare. Because his mind, or more likely his heart, though he would never admit it to anyone, could comprehend and refused to _believe_ that Dain was an Ol.

For one, he had known Dain since the boy's childhood, had partly raised him, hadn't he? The boy was eleven back then, and the Resistance was still in the forming. Most organizations like this were immediately found out, so Jared had planned every detail carefully, first recruiting only those he knew he could trust, those who hated the Shadow Lord just as much as he did. He remembered that he was in the middle of searching for new recruits when he stumbled upon the starved child sleeping in the bushes.

Skinny, complexion as pale as death itself and utterly filthy. It was in a pathetic state, but it was in no case pathetic itself, Doom had felt the difference on his own skin.

To this day he couldn't understand why had taken the boy in, maybe it was out of pity, or empathy, but Doom knew, somewhere deep down in his own darkness, it was out of loneliness. He had no one, and the child had no one. It was waiting for oblivion to come, he had been there, wished for nothing but that release from all the pain in the world. Yet, he had survived without anyone needing to hold him back. He had no one to hold him back. The boy didn't either, and he was _letting go._

In truth, Doom saw himself that day. He saw how it could have ended, but didn't. And so, he decided to save the child from its' own, long-awaited end and to give it a purpose. Just as the real Doom had given him.

Now, everything was different.

Both for the better and, out of his own selfish reasons, for the worst.

But he was not the only one whose thoughts drifted to this particular topic. He chuckled mirthlessly, Lief thought no one noticed, but it was as clear as day, though most ignored it, they did not understand how strong the deceit had hit.

Dain was Lief's friend and, being the Dain that Doom knew, or rather, thought he knew, he was a good and caring one.

It was all too painfully obvious whenever a fight erupted with the Ols on the east side of the kingdom, all too obvious how those bright eyes would darken in shade and how he would excuse himself, going to blankly stare out the window at only what he could see.

Jasmine was like her father, too proud to admit that the wounds ran deep enough to hurt for many years to come. The girl did her brooding alone, in the shadows of her former home, pressed against the trunk of the good trees as they murmured their reassuring wisdom.

Even Barda, the burly man Doom had fought in the Rithmere Games, had been affected. For only a few moments, and on fewer occasions, violet eyes would flicker from their determined stare, showing everything hidden behind the shield until it was raised again.

Doom still went on trips with Steven sometimes, riding on the top of his cart as the man continued to sing that pointless song in his usual merriment. A few times, he had actually called for Dain to join him in singing, as he had asked when the boy was younger, only to realize his mistake - that the gentle soul of a boy was not so gentle, and was no longer there. He would be quiet after that, mood somber but not even trying cover his slip, and Doom did not judge him.

Those of the Resistance that had survived had mixed feelings about the traitor.

But, in the end, it came down to the same, they missed him, there was a distinct hole in which those gentle eyes and reassuring smile had once been. Because he was just that for them, a distant reassurance that not all good in the world was gone. He remembered how Dain would always make sure that every member was alright and partially in a good mood, even though most snapped at him. Still, he had taken the time to care and to ask, and that had helped them in more ways than most could imagine. It was ironic that their greatest reassurance came from an Ol.

It still made no sense though, that a spy was sent so early on, that it was a child that he probably would have just left there to die. The fact that Dain had spent night and day with him for as long as they had known each other. There was something missing, a piece of the puzzle that the Shadow Lord kept obscured. Whatever it was, it was a lost cause, but he still could not bring himself to let it go.

It could have been different, in so many ways, it could have, but it was not. And Doom knew that would not change, no matter what.

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